


Who Am I?

by Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome



Series: RayWood [6]
Category: Brownman - Fandom, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:45:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome/pseuds/Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome
Summary: Memory loss is something no one wants to experience. Unfortunately for Ryan, his memory was gone, just like the wind. Settling down in a little place called Achievement City he started anew, happy and almost carefree... until the past decided to come back to life in the form of a man called Ray Narvaez Jr. In him, Ryan hopes to fill the hole in his memory, even if he didn't like what he heard.





	1. Memory: Gone

He woke up in a dark alleyway, cold and alone. His head felt as if it has been run over by a truck, and he felt something sticky covering the left side of his face. He sat up slowly, careful not to move too much just in case he had been hurt somewhere else. He suddenly realized that his vision was limited, and he was afraid that his eyes had been compromised. He reached up and was almost relieved to feel rubber. _Just a mask then_ , he thought. He pulled it off carefully, wincing in pain as he did so. As he glanced down at it he was disturbed by the sight of a black skull, the rubber glinting in the dim light. _Why was I wearing that? On second thought, why I am even here? What happened to me?_ The more he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t remember anything, not even his name. He sighed and threw the mask away from him, not caring where it landed. _Whatever my life was before this, it’s over. Can’t return if I can’t remember it, right?_ He stood up carefully, grabbing onto the dumpster next to him to help himself stand. He let out soft groans as he did so, pain flashing throughout his body. He walked out of the alleyway one step at a time, using the wall of the building next to him to stay upright. He paused every once in awhile when his head felt like it was going to split apart, gritting his teeth. 

_Time to move on, I guess. What else can I do?_


	2. A Couple Years Later

“Ryan! Come out here and help this customer. I’d do it myself but he said he heard you were the best and honestly? I agree with him.” His boss called back to him, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Ryan smiled softly and set down his watering can. “I’ll be back, Edgar,” he said softly to the black and white spotted flower, making his way towards the front of the store. As he walked he thought about the last couple of years of his life, wondering just how got to have the best job in the world (though never in a million years did he think he’d be a _florist_ , of all things).

He supposed had the accident to thank. After walking out of that alleyway he took a bus (payed for with money in the wallet he found in his pocket (He also found out his name was Ryan, thanks to a picture of him and a dark haired man with a pink rifle slung over his shoulder named Ray ( _Why was that name so familiar, and why does it feel like home?_ )) and ended up a place called Achievement City. After wandering around, he found the town’s small hotel, where the owner took pity on him and took him to the hospital. He had his face stitched up and was left with a scar that ran down the left side of his face, near the hairline. He didn’t mind it much; he thought it made him look more badass and besides, it only added to the collection of scars he already had (How did I get them?). After that, he snagged a job at the plant shop downtown Achievement City and even got his own place, all thanks to the hotel owner’s help.

_You know, I never thought I’d be saying something like this, but thank God for that accident_ Ryan thought as he finished his trip down memory lane. _I may not be able to remember anything from before that, and that sucks, but life is pretty good right now._ He finally made his way to the front of the store but only managed to say, “Hi there! How may I help...” before trailing off, the words dying in his throat. Standing at the cash register was the man in the picture in his wallet, the one he knew as Ray.

Ray’s lips parted slightly as he stared at Ryan, subtle disbelief written on his handsome features. He cleared his throat after half a minute of silence and said, almost too casually, “So, it _is_ you. After two years, you still look the same. You have a new scar though.” He eyed the scar on the side of Ryan’s face, something close to concern in his eyes.

Ryan blushed slightly and absentmindedly touched the scar running down the side of his face. He stayed silent for a beat longer then turned to face his boss who quickly looked away and acted busy, as if he just hadn’t been listening in to their conversation. “Uh, boss? May I take a break? Something came up.” He nodded his head gently towards Ray who was still staring hard at Ryan, almost as if he thought that if he looked away Ryan would disappear... again.

His boss looked up from the plant he was “tending” to and glanced at Ray with concern before nodding at Ryan. “Of course you can. Clearly you two need some catching up. Take as much time as you need. The shop’s been pretty quiet today anyways.”

Ryan nodded his thanks and turned back to Ray, murmuring, “Follow me, uh, Ray,” before walking out from behind the counter. He opened the door to the store, its welcoming bell tinkling as he held it open for Ray. As the other man walked out Ryan motioned to him to follow him across the street to the town’s diner. It was busy day and for that Ryan was thankful. He felt like the conversation he was about to have with Ray was one no one else needed to hear.

He slipped into a booth in the far back and Ray followed suit, looking around the diner with suspicion. A waitress came by after a few minutes but both turned down her offer for anything, muttering something about not being hungry. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, both men waiting for the other to start speaking. The tension coming off of Ray was concerning Ryan greatly, and for some reason he got the sense that he was in the presence of a very dangerous person. Yet at the same time… for the first time in years, he felt as if he were home.

After a few minutes Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh, you know me. And uh, clearly, you were someone important to me. I _do_ have your picture in my wallet, after all.” Ryan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the worn wallet, flipping it open to reveal the picture. He stared at the picture for a moment then pulled it of his wallet, placing on the table between them. He tapped it before asking, “So, how do we know each other? Who are you, Ray?” _Who am I?_

Ray glanced at the picture and pressed his mouth into a thin line, something unreadable about his expression. He looked back up at Ryan and suddenly his anger reached a boiling point, the words pouring out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Stop playing these games, Ryan. Just stop, alright? There’s no need for this. I didn’t come here to hear you act like you don’t know me. I mean, yeah, it’s been two years since you’ve seen me, seen _any_ of us, but even _my_ memory isn’t that bad despite you teasing me about it.” Ryan opened his mouth to speak but Ray steamrolled ahead, getting properly worked up. “Two years, Ryan! Two fucking years! You were alive this whole time and you didn’t even bother to send word! I thought we meant something to you. I thought _I_ meant something to you.” Ray scoffed and looked out the window, shaking his head. “Guess we were all wrong, huh.”

Needless to say, Ryan was more than a little shocked at Ray’s outburst. He bit his lip as he studied the side of Ray’s face, processing what just happened. He said softly, “Ray,” and reached over the table, grabbing Ray’s hand to force the Puerto Rican to look at him again. “I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you. Really, I am. But I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no memory except for the past two years.” Ryan sighed and let go of Ray’s hand, running it through his hair instead. “I get these… glimpses, these little bits and pieces of what I can assume are my life. But it’s never for certain.

“You see, I had an accident a couple years ago. Woke up in an alley, face covered in blood and wearing this creepy ass skull mask.” Ryan shuddered slightly, disturbed by the memory of it. Ray raised his eyebrow but didn’t comment. “Anyways, when I woke up I couldn’t even remember my _name_. The only reason I was able to know it- and yours- was thanks to this picture here.” He tapped the picture again. “Our names are written on the back… but I assume you already knew that.” Ryan sighed again, sitting back in his booth. “You may not believe me, but I’m telling the truth.”

Ray studied Ryan for a long time, staring him in the eyes as if he could see into soul and tell if he was lying or not. Finally, his face softened and he said,” You really don’t remember, do you?” When Ryan shook his head Ray slumped back into the booth, running his hand through his already messy hair. “Great. This is worse than I thought it would be.” He sighed, then leaned over the table, speaking softly. “Don’t repeat this information to anyone else, alright? No matter what you decide to do after this, don’t you breathe a word of this conversation. If you do, we’ll have to kill you.” Ray shrugged when he notice Ryan’s slightly alarmed expression. “It’s nothing personal, really. Just business. You’ll understand in just a moment.” And with that, he began telling the story of Ryan Haywood, the Vagabond.


	3. Who You Are

“Your name is James Ryan Haywood. You were grew up in Georgia. Your history there is still unknown even to me, so I can’t tell you much more about it. You eventually moved to a place called Los Santos, about ten years ago. You uh, you never told us why, but after moving there you became a mercenary. You started with small jobs, but quickly your reputation spread throughout the criminal underworld and you became known as The Vagabond.”

Ray stopped for a moment, letting Ryan digest this information. When he was certain Ryan wasn’t going to speak he continued. “Your reputation grew so quickly because of your methods, and your reliability to get the job done no matter what. You killed without remorse and without mercy. People feared you, and with your habit of wearing a certain black mask no one wanted to approach you. Until Geoff hired you, of course.” Ray smiled at the memory. “I remember him bringing you home. Everybody in the Crew thought he was out of his damn mind. We thought you were gonna kill us in our sleep. We tried to argue to Geoff about that- he’s our boss, by the way, I can show you a picture in a second- but he wasn’t going to fire you. Said you were worth the investment, despite your dangerous reputation.

“It took us a few months to get used to you, but once we did, we were glad Geoff brought you in. You weren’t as scary as you looked. In fact, you were kind, and dorky… and lovable.” Ray’s smiled faded slightly, and he shook his head softly. “You quickly became very protective of us. We meant the world to you. Anyone that threatened us was quickly murdered, and brutally too. You risked your life time and time again, getting into trouble with the others. There was one time…” Ray paused, the memory hitting him hard. “You almost died. You’ve seen the bullet scar in your chest, yeah? You got that protecting Gavin. You brushed it off like it was nothing… like you were ready to die. Jack wasn’t having it of course and drugged your stubborn ass so we could get you to Caleb, our medic. It was the scariest week of my life, Ryan. We didn’t know if you were going to live or not.” 

Ray paused, taking a deep breathe. “Anyways, I forgot to tell you what we do.” He dropped his voice and said lowly, keeping his gaze on Ryan. “I’m a part of a gang known as The Fake AH Crew. We’re run by a guy called Geoff Ramsey. His second in command is called Jack Pattillo. She’s basically the mom of the group, just like Geoff is sort of like the dad. There’s also Gavin Free, our hacker. He also goes by The Golden Boy, and you’ll see why when I show you a picture of them. Michael Jones is our angry explosives guy. You know who I am. And our newest member, you never got to meet him. His name is Jeremy Dooley. He’s… he’s basically our replacement you. Here-” Ray reached into his own pants pocket, pulling out an almost as worn-looking wallet as Ryan’s. He pulled out a folded picture and, after unfolding it, placed it in front of Ryan. “I labelled them for you so you know who’s who.”

Ryan gently took the photo off the table, keeping silent as he studied it. Once again, that sense of _home_ passed over him and he smiled softly, running his thumb across the glossy faces. He frowned however and glanced back up at Ray, confusion heavy in his voice. “But that doesn’t explain why I just have _your_ picture in my wallet and nobody else’s. If all of you were so important to me, why don’t I have pictures of them too?”

Ray hesitated, shifting slightly in his seat. “We… we were a couple, Ryan. We got together just before you disappeared, in fact. We knew we liked each other for a while but we both were too pussy to do anything about it.” He paused again, something sad in his expression. He looked down at the table as he picked at the edge, his voice soft. “I never stopped loving you, you know. Even after everyone else told me to move on.”

“Oh.” _Suddenly it all makes sense._ “I uh. To be honest, Ray, I kind of expected you to say something like that. Whenever I looked at that photo of us, the world felt right. It felt like home, just like looking at this photo makes me feel that way.” He set the photo down, keeping his gaze on it as he said carefully, “But I don’t think I can come back.” He glanced up at Ray, something almost desperate in his expression. “Please, understand it’s not you, or the Crew. On some level I know I love you guys, you especially. But my home is here now. I can’t go back to being The Vagabond, the dangerous and feared criminal. That’s just not _me_. I’m Ryan Hayworth, the florist. I’m no criminal.”

Ray stayed silent for a beat then nodded, resignation on his face as he picked back up his wallet. “I figured you’d say something like that. And I understand, even if I don’t like it.” He slid out of his booth, studying Ryan for a moment then holding out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your job, Mr. Florist. I’ve used up a lot of your time already.” 

Ryan took the offered hand, frowning slightly as he stood up. “I’m… well, not entirely sorry that I’m not going back with you, but I still feel like I should say it.” He grabbed both photos and his wallet, putting all three items in his pocket. 

The smaller man shrugged, quickly letting go of Ryan’s hand as they walked out of the diner. “Like I said, I expected it. At least now I can move on.” They paused outside of the diner, each eyeing the other. “Well, I guess this is goodbye. And before you ask, no we won’t come and kill you. You’re safe here.” 

Ryan nodded, giving Ray a small smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Uh, tell the others I said hello, and that you’re all welcome to drop by the shop.” 

Ray smiled slightly, shoving his hands into his hoodie. “We might. He fell silent for a beat before asking, “No use in even trying to convince you, is there?” 

Ryan shook his head, something sad and lost in his expression. “You know where I stand. I… could visit sometime though, but I won’t stay.”

“That would be nice. They miss you, you know. Especially Gavin.” Ray shifted on his feet, glancing around subtly. “I miss you.” He said abruptly, snapping his gaze back to Ryan. “ _I_ miss you so much, Ryan. And- and you may not miss me back, and that’s okay. Just- I gotta do something.” Before Ryan had any chance to react, Ray leaned up on his toes and kissed Ryan, softly at first then more passionately as Ryan didn’t pull away. The taller man wrapped his arms gently around Ray’s waist, paying no mind to the man approaching them... or the danger they were about to face.


End file.
